Peter Chapman Poetry

Big Into It

We finished our coffee and went outside into the heat.
The parade was going by.
There's Gil, John said and waived
and shouted. It was so hot. John got
into the parade, waving, yelling names.
It was okay but how would I leave town?
I said goodbye and thought
about going up a one-way street wrong.

Gil took all the dui cases.
He was a lawyer who counseled the drunks to own up to it, like him.

He was marching with the vets.
He was over there? I asked John. Yesss, he was big into it John said, wheezy from the smoking.

The parade was okay but I wanted to go.
Gil came over and asked John how he was.
How are you doing he said, more than once,
looking at John like he might buy him.

John said he was sober.
He asked Gil about the sore on his face.
Gil said it was nothing, a staph infection.

John said he was good and Gil backed away
to go up the street. Good he said, that's good.

The drums went rat-a-tat, and the sun was a toaster.

Everything went right on by, and watching, you went by too.